Free Thunder by Bonnie S. Calhoun

scared. He’d never felt them in fear before. “Did the guy say where home was?”
    â€œHe said across the ocean.”
    â€œOcean! Pacific or Atlantic?” Bodhi’s head jerked in the direction of the door.
    Cleon looked around and then back at Bodhi with a questioning look. He hopped up from the bale. “Someone’s coming.”

5

    The Mountain
    Everling tensed, arms still raised.
    As though it sneezed, a puff of dust rose about eight inches high along the full length of the desiccated body, then collapsed back in on itself. The body turned to a pile of dust.
    Everling turned toward the examination tray and relaxed. All was accounted for. He’d learned by trial and error that tissue and objects moved from close proximity could survive the reclamation process. He sighed. There probably wouldn’t be any better data from this subject than from the last few in this batch. He needed to dispose of the leftovers and get a new set of subjects right away. The serum trials on himself were netting results. The cure for Bethany’s cancer was close.
    He looked down. Some of the dust filtered from the table and onto the front of his shoes.
    Treva Gilani returned. “Should I take it now, sir?”
    Everling nodded then knocked the dust from his shoes. His head throbbed. He couldn’t figure out how to stop this process from claiming subjects. “Yes, dispose of the dust and get these samples catalogued and into my lab.”
    â€œDo you think you can re-create the sampling?” Stemple tapped some numbers into the virtual keyboard of his halo-tablet, and a 3-D model of the body appeared above its surface. He aimed the tablet at the samples on the cart. They appeared above the original image with laser leads showing where they came from in the body.
    Everling stripped off his gloves. “Why didn’t they call me when the subject first died? I lost precious time.”
    â€œThe attending intern stepped out for ten minutes to help in another lab,” Stemple said.
    The doctor averted his glance. “I’m sorry for being short with you. I had such high hopes for this group. I know there are a few left, but we’re going to have to start over.” He shook his head. “Do we have any new arrivals to cull DNA?”
    Stemple waved his hand across the halo-tablet. The 3-D model faded and charts took its place. “All we have left are originals. They’re just not compatible for creating sample groups.”
    â€œIncrease the bounty. There have to be more Landers around. Those idiot peasants need monetary encouragement.” Everling started to pace.
    â€œI’ve researched our claim payments. Most of the incoming subjects are being located in Boroughs to the south of us.” Stemple held out his tablet.
    Everling walked back to look at the screen. “Can you overlay a map?”
    Stemple clicked something, and the human captures showed up as yellow dots on a topical map. The livable area outside the Mountain was nothing more than a ragtag band of settlements dotting the extreme East Coast from north to south.
    â€œOrient me,” Everling said, waving a hand. Science was his field, not geography. He had no interest in what was left of the outside world.
    Stemple rotated the map. “We’re here. All the subjects we’ve gathered in the last fifteen years have come from this area.” His finger highlighted the yellow dots going south from the Mountain’s position, approximately forty miles west of Washington, DC.
    Everling studied the map. “Why are there none to the left of the longitudinal line?”
    â€œThose are mountains. There aren’t any settlements on the western side. Or at least we don’t think so. Too much ash from the volcano over there. Historically it looked like an alien landscape. No one’s ever gone back.”
    The Sorrows had happened 150 years ago. Everling rarely thought back to his youth